


A Few of My Favorite Things

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-24
Updated: 2007-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christopher Chant was composing in his mind a list of his three most favorite moments in all his lives thus far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Few of My Favorite Things

**Author's Note:**

> Yuletide Treat Story. Lots of thanks to whetherwoman for the beta and to everyone on IRC for encouraging the madness! 
> 
> Written for cjk1701

 

 

Christopher Chant was composing in his mind a list of his three most favorite moments in all his lives thus far. He was doing this because he was bored, and he was bored because he was at Chrestomanci Castle. The two facts seemed to be inextricably linked in Christopher's mind, as if boredom were woven into the very stones of the castle walls along with all the other spells. 

Third on his list, he'd just about decided, was the time he'd floated old Dr. Pawson and his entire household up into the air. It was the very first time he'd ever performed magic and actually had it _work_. He'd had to work ever so hard to repair everything afterwards, but it had been worth it to see the expression on Dr. Pawson's big purple face as he went flying up out of his chair to the ceiling. He rather wished he could try that here on Gabriel DeWitt, but he suspected that not only would the charms on the castle not allow it but that also he'd be in even bigger trouble here than he had been before. 

The second happiest event in his life, he knew, was meeting foxy Uncle Ralph for the first time. He wished he could have kept his shilling, and was vaguely annoyed again at Papa for mucking about with all those spells when he was little. Why, he hadn't been killed by anything silver _yet_ , in all his deaths. Surely that ought to prove that the horoscopes were wrong? 

First on his list would have to be one of his trips to the Anywheres with Tacroy, but choosing which one was the hard part. It would have to be one of the times when he and Tacroy had talked cricket, though. Christopher still wished like mad that one day he could play professional cricket, but apparently, if one were a nine-lived enchanter, one became the Chrestomanci, and if one were the Chrestomanci, one did not get to do anything near so fun as play cricket. Who knew when or if they would allow him to play here, when they hadn't even bothered to inform him until now that the Castle even _had_ a team.

And hadn't _that_ been annoying? First to find out that he'd been deprived of cricket for no reason at all. Then to learn that he could only attend the game as a scorekeeper, and finally, to add insult to injury, to have to listen to Flavian blather on and on about his good friend Mordecai, the star player of the team. Mordecai this and Mordecai that. Christopher had begun to feel like screaming each time he heard the name. He bet Tacroy was a million times better bowler than Flavian's silly old Mordecai, anyway, and he wished he could tell Flavian so.

Not just a better bowler either, but probably a better batsman as well, and definitely a much nicer person. This Mordecai Roberts sounded like the sort of fellow who was big and bluff and hearty and liked to clap you on the back and call you "Chris" without asking whether or not you liked that first. Whereas Tacroy was keen and interesting to talk to and smiled at you like he was really truly awfully glad to see you. And he had a wonderful laugh-it sort of invited you to join in with him. When Tacroy laughed, especially when it was at something Christopher had said, Christopher felt as if, well, as if he were the most important person in the whole world-- which was silly, but Christopher didn't care, because at those times it was okay to be silly. Tacroy wasn't the sort of chap to make one feel all self-conscious about laughing and feeling silly.

Sometimes, though, when Tacroy was showing him how to hold the bat straight and how to twist his shoulder around to be bring off a long, low hit, Christopher would catch himself shivering as Tacroy's hands brushed his skin. If Tacroy noticed he would smile apologetically and say, "Sorry. Cold hands." Christopher would nod and grin and wave it off. Tacroy's hands weren't really _cold_ , not cold enough to notice, but somehow they made him shiver all the same. 

It was odd; just like the queer, twisting sensation in his stomach he'd started getting whenever Tacroy smiled one of _those_ smiles at him. At first Christopher had put it down to food poisoning, but it just kept happening, even when he'd made it a point not to eat or drink anything beforehand. He certainly didn't seem to be catching cold, although just the idea of Tacroy pressing one broad hand to his forehead to check for fever made his cheeks flush and his ears turn red. Still, though, if he was coming down with something he'd better let Tacroy know. Christopher didn't want anything to prevent him from visiting the Anywheres.

There, that was settled, then. As soon as this certain-to-be-rubbish cricket game was over and Gabriel deWitt had decided that he'd punished Christopher enough by making him _keep score_ , Christopher was going to declare himself ready for an early night. He couldn't wait to tell Tacroy about the list (they could a have a jolly good time arguing over which Anywhere was the best), and he'd also tell him all about those funny symptoms he'd been having. Tacroy was sure to know just what to do to make everything better.

He always did, after all. 

 


End file.
